


welcome to my channel

by akc, aukusti



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: ASMR, YouTube, death note vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 07:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18360989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akc/pseuds/akc, https://archiveofourown.org/users/aukusti/pseuds/aukusti
Summary: “I hate consumerism,” Near says.





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**Author's Note:**

> long story short me and friend wrote near doing asmr and mello reacting to it. the first chapter is mine. happy 2019. god bless

**NearHatesASMR**

Subscribers | 598,772

* * *

 “Hello everyone,” Near says.

He looks at the camera and then briefly away from it to something off-screen.

“I’d like to firstly apologize for not uploading a video last week,” he continues. “I had a cold. I didn’t think anybody wanted to hear me sniffle.”

There’s a pause.

“I’ve gotten some recent feedback, and it seems that people aren’t happy that I don’t really whisper in my videos.”

His face is expressionless, but somehow reads as a glare.

“I think whispering is stupid and creepy, so I’m not going to do it. Please stop asking. My voice is quiet enough already.”

He plays with his hair.

“However, someone did request that I try crunching things. They specifically asked for charcoal, so I bought some charcoal. I also bought chalk, which I am not excited to touch.”

A sigh. “But the chalk is for later. First I’m going to use the charcoal.”

Near shows the charcoal. He also pulls out a mortar and pestle. “This is going to stain my fingers.”

It is stated as a fact.

“And it might stain my clothes, too.”

His voice is mirthless.

“But I’m going to do it anyway because I am a humanitarian.”

The camera cuts ever so slightly so that it is better angled on the mortar and pestle, rather than Near’s face.

“Hm,” he says. “I should have trimmed my nails before I started filming this. Unfortunately it’s too late to do that now seeing that I’m sitting down very comfortably.”

The microphone’s settings must have changed, because his voice comes out much clearer than it had at the beginning of the video.

“I’ve seen a lot of advertisements for charcoal teeth-cleaning products, and there’s a few thoughts I have about them.”

He cracks the charcoal lump in half with his fingers and places it in the mortar.

“First of all, I won’t say that it doesn’t work.” He picks up the pestle. “Because it does. Charcoal absorbs the plaque in teeth.”

Near gives one smooth press to the bigger piece of charcoal and it crumbles underneath the pestle. “The toxins in teeth have a positive electrical charge, and charcoal—activated charcoal in this instance—has a negative charge.”

Very slowly he continues to crunch the charcoal. “That means that the charcoal neutralizes the toxins in teeth, therefore whitening it in the process.”

He adjusts his grip on the mortar.

“In short, using activated charcoal to whiten your teeth works.”

His voice is quiet enough to still hear the charcoal, and he speaks purposefully slowly.

“But the companies that market these types of products never include warnings in their advertisements, which is a big problem.”

A few seconds of silence pass.

“Actually, I’d like to amend that statement,” Near says. “They do give warnings because they’re legally obligated to, but it’s always in fine print and no context is given with it.”

He twists the pestle back of forth in his hand for a moment before continuing. The microphone picks up the sound of it brushing against his fingers.

“It isn’t enough for a company to say, ‘do not swallow,’ or ‘contact poison control if more than recommended amount is consumed.’ They’re too cowardly to explain why exactly people shouldn’t do that.”

With that statement, Near gives a particularly hard crack against the mortar. “They don’t say, ‘don’t swallow the charcoal because it can cause pregnancy complications.’ They don’t say, ‘don’t swallow the charcoal because it can create blockages in your intestines.’”

_Crack, crack._

“I hate consumerism.”

Most of the charcoal is almost powder at this point. There’s a few small clumps left, but Near ignores them and puts down the pestle on the table with a _clunk._

“Anyway,” he says slowly, “I’m going to pour water in this now, because it’s supposed to sound nice.”

He pulls out a small cup of water from somewhere offscreen and pours it into the mortar. The microphone picks up the sound of the water to an almost distressing degree.

“I’m not sure I understand the appeal of playing water soundscapes when you’re trying to go to sleep.”

Near picks up the pestle again. “I don’t think it’s very pleasant. It sounds too artificial.”

The water and charcoal mix sounds much different than the dry mix.

“Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but that’s just my own.”

Crunch, crunch. Half a minute passes.

Near sighs. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do with this charcoal now that it’s been reduced to slushy powder. Apparently it’s good for keeping rust off of tools but I’m obviously not a repairman.”

The hand holding the pestle stills. “I’ve also been wondering whether or not I should add the chalk in to this mixture or clean everything and start new.”

For lack of anything better to do, he taps the pestle against the mortar.

“I think it would be too messy if I added it right now. I went into this video thinking I would add it at the same time, but looking at it now, I think that would be a bad idea.”

He swipes his hand across the screen and a clean mortar and pestle is revealed in its wake. Cool video effect, Near.

“I now have the chalk that I am not excited to touch,” he says monotonously. “There isn’t anything special about the chalk, by the way. I got it at a craft store.”

He shows the pieces of chalk. Sure enough, there is nothing special about it. For the effect he taps his fingernails against a few of the pieces.

“As you can see, the charcoal did in fact stain my fingers. Now this chalk is going to make it even worse.”

Pause.

“I’m going to complain all I want about this.”

After a few more seconds of tapping he drops the pieces of chalk into the mortar. Almost painfully slowly he crushes it with the pestle; it doesn’t break as easily as the charcoal had. It takes a bit of maneuvering until it’s crumbly.

“Chalk makes my fingers feel very dry,” he says. “Dry in a way that can’t be remedied by things like lotion.”

More crushing.

“A different kind of dry, if you would.”

Near has less to say about chalk than charcoal, because chalk is chalk, unlike charcoal. Less controversies.

“This is kind of difficult,” he continues. “I didn’t think it would be so difficult to break chalk. I think I should have first cut it up into smaller pieces.”

Despite what he says, the chalk is actually being broken up just fine.

“It’s too late for that now, though.”

He brings out a cup of water again and pours it into the mortar—significantly less than he had poured into the charcoal mixture.

“I have a feeling the texture of this is going to be much more disgusting than the texture of the charcoal mix.”

And it is, probably, just from the video. The water doesn’t really mix well with the chalk; it just gets a bit milky colored.

Near continues crushing it all with the pestle anyway. “I have to say that this smells extremely strange,” he says. “It isn’t pleasant.”

He continues. On and on and on, all the while mumbling things about the texture of chalk.

“The chemical formula for chalk is just calcium carbonate,” he says it one point. “At least, it’s mostly that, minus a few probable impurities. Carbonate isn’t soluble in water, so me pouring water in this was pointless.”

A sigh.

“It doesn’t matter, though. I was too invested in talking about the chalk and charcoal itself that I went over the time limit.” Pause. “Oh, I went over the time limit.”

The video cuts back to Near, not the mortar and pestle.

“This ended up being a lot more unpolished and sloppy than I would have liked,” he mourns. “But I hope I at least provided useful information.”

He clears his throat.

“Please consider supporting my Patreon so that I can make more unpolished and sloppy videos like this one. The link is in the description along with a few other social media links.”

Near hasn’t smiled the whole video.

“Thanks for watching.”


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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my part is basically a corner of my mind but now it’s mello’s world and we’re all just living in it. enjoy

**Melloism**

Subscribers | 666,707

* * *

“Girls and gays,” a voice says. Onscreen, only the back of a plush chair is visible. It swivels around and in it, Mello is seated, a wolfish grin on his face. “Boys and bitches. Welcome back to my channel.”

Offscreen, there’s a snicker and Mello turns his head to glare at the source, the sound becoming a laugh. He makes a tsk noise before facing the camera again. “Matt’s just being a dickhead.” Matt, his tech boy and boyfriend, in that order. “Anyway.”

“It’s Tuesday, so I’m morally obligated to upload,” to which Matt says dude, since when do you care about morals and Mello smiles at the camera sweetly, almost too sweet, standing up before saying, “Excuse me.”

It cuts to Mello sitting again, a satisfied look on his face. “Now that I’ve dealt with a pest issue, let’s get on with it. I recently became aware that bitchass Near, who many of you may or may not be subscribed to, uploaded a new video.” His face contorted into a scowl. “So, by popular request, I’ll react to it. Again.”

At the top left of the screen, the video in question appears, paused. He sneers. “Let’s see what the fuck he’s come up with this time.”

The video begins. Near appears on screen, face as neutral as ever. Mello’s hand twitches where it’s resting on the arms of his chair. “Hello everyone,” Near says. Mello’s hand immediately shoots forward to press an arrow key, the video moving forward five seconds. “—video last week. I had a cold. I didn’t think anybody wanted to hear me sniffle.”

Mello opens his mouth, closes it again, makes a tch noise as he stares. The video continues. “First I’m going to use the charcoal.” Mello's eyes narrow as Near keeps talking. “This is going to stain my fingers and it might stain my clothes, too.”

“But I’m going to do it anyway, because I am a humanitarian,” Near says plainly, as if it’s a fact. A sound escapes Mello until he starts to laugh maniacally, doubling over as he does so to pause the video.

“What the fuck,” the words sound strained, because of his laughter or the underlying murderous intent unclear. “Who just says shit like this? Jesus Christ.”

Regaining his composure, Mello resumes the video, his gaze growing increasingly narrower as it goes on. The scowl on his face deepens with every passing sound of the pestle Near is holding cracking against the mortar, ever quiet voice gnawing at the part of him that wants to scream in contrast.

“Who watches this,” and Mello’s voice is almost a growl this time. “Because whoever keeps fucking telling me to do it too, I’ll find you. On God.”

“I hate consumerism,” Near says. Mello bites his hand.

He’s taking deep breaths, in and out, in and out, Near’s monotonous voice saying something he doesn’t bother focusing on. The sudden, resonating sound of water being poured makes him snap.

“Tell me,” he says, eerily calm. “Who thinks this sounds nice? I’d have Matt’s skinny ass snap my neck if I had to do this.”

Off to the side, Matt laughs. Mello glances at him, then back at the camera. At the top left of the screen, Near is saying, “…but looking at it now, that would be a bad idea.”

His hand swipes against the video, the used mortar and pestle being replaced by clean ones. Mello snorts. “Cool video effect, Near.”

There’s chalk. Mello mutes the video. “I don’t see the purpose in this shit. So, again,” he aims a razor-sharp smile at the camera, “don’t fucking send it to me.”

Just skip to the end, Matt suggests, still not making himself seen. Mello looks relieved, pressing the forward button a few times. “Glad you have a brain.”

“Please consider supporting my Patreon so that I can make more unpolished and sloppy videos like this one. The link is in the description along with a few other social media links.” Mello arches a brow. “Thanks for watching.”

He exhales, still looking vaguely murderous but more composed. “So.”

“As expected, this was,” Mello waves his arms in a sweeping gesture, “a waste of my time. On Friday, there’ll be actual content since Matt says our next order gets here tomorrow and I have to try everything on and he has to edit it, blah blah blah.” Next order referencing the ridiculous amount of designer clothes that arrives occasionally at their shared apartment. Nobody knew how they could afford it; there were conspiracy theorists in the comments sections of his videos all the time, saying something or the other about a millionaire inheritance or back door deals.

“Here’s a reminder to leave everything but requests to watch anything Near’s shitty videos in the comments section below.” He crosses his legs. “But it’s gonna happen, again, because nothing is sacred. So at least like and subscribe.”

Mello smirks. “Matt has a hot date tonight, so that’s it for now. Thanks for watching.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


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